The Blind Date Landish, Lauren (read a book TXT) 📖

Okay, I guess this isn’t the time to ask about Arielle and Eli. But that time will come. Soon.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Arielle asks.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” Riley admits from the stove, where she’s scrambling some eggs. “I mean, guys have bros before hos, and we . . . you know.”

“Chicks before dicks,” Arielle finishes for Riley. “But that’s only if it’s casual, fuck-buddy shit. Not this.”

“Sorry,” Riley tells Arielle, and Arielle nods, accepting it. Arielle turns to me, and I offer a chin dip. That’s all I’m giving because I’m not sorry. None of this went to plan, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Arielle’s left brow goes up, and she holds my gaze for a solid three seconds, but finally, she dips her chin too.

We’re good.

Arielle knows everything.

“When did you start growing out your landing strip again, Riley?” she asks casually, digging into the plate of eggs Riley sets in front of her like she’s talking about the weather.

“Wait . . . what?” I ask, just shocked. I swear Arielle’s doing it on purpose, trying to keep me off balance and off guard.

“What, Noah?” Arielle asks with a laugh. “You think I haven’t seen this girl’s tits and vajayjay before? We held each other’s hands the first time we got waxed. Like this, us two.”

She crosses her fingers, and I suddenly realize how messy this could get. Arielle’s being cool about it right now, but she’s giving me a very clear warning.

Pussy before peen, is that a thing?

Even when there’s blood involved?

"Oh, one more question,” Arielle says around a mouthful of eggs. “When are you going to tell River?” Riley and I are silent, looking at each other uncertainly. Arielle shouts, eggs going everywhere, “Does he already know? Did you tell him before you told me?”

Riley reaches out to Arielle’s arm. “No, he doesn’t know. God, I wouldn’t tell him before you.”

Arielle looks to me for confirmation. “I haven’t told him yet,” I say, shaking my head.

“Shit, you’re gonna get murdered, Bro.” Arielle sounds a little gleeful about that if you ask me. “If you want my advice, tell him. The sooner, the better. And might I suggest with clothes on and not with Riley’s hand on your dick? Personally, I was thankful for that. A little coverage to protect my eyes from seeing your junk. But River? I don’t think he’ll feel quite the same way.”

“You know, she’s right,” I tell Riley after a moment. “The longer we wait to tell our families about this, the more awkward it’s going to be when they find out.”

“Exactly,” Arielle says, thumping a fist on the table and grinning. “You know, life will be easier for both of you if you just live by this rule, ‘Arielle’s always right.’”

“You sure we shouldn’t expand that to the entire world?” Riley deadpans. “Or is that too much?”

“Nope, not at all,” Arielle says easily. “I’ve already got the folks at the home believing it, and now you two believe it. I’ll be a bonafide cult leader before you know it.” She looks down at Raffy, who’s hovering below the table, hoping for scraps. “What do you think Raffy? Wanna be my mascot?”

“He’s my dog,” Riley warns.

Arielle grabs a chunk of scrambled egg from my plate and feeds it to an excited Raffy. “Yeah, but he loves me too.”

“Hey!” I shout. “Those are mine.”

“Yeah? Well, she was mine,” Arielle challenges, pointing at Riley.

I think Arielle wins this argument. But I’m certain I’m winning at life . . . with Riley by my side, pants covering my ass, and a good plate of scrambled eggs.

Chapter 16 Riley

I guess it’s fitting that Noah and I are doing this on a Sunday.

Sundays are the traditional day for family. Gathered around a table or television, with grills fired up and ovens baking, it’s an important way for connections to be forged, built, and strengthened.

So I guess we couldn’t have picked a better day than today.

If that’s true, though, why are my fingers shaking, my heart racing, and my belly feeling like I swallowed too much soda in one go? I’d burp if I could, but I don’t think even a monster belch would help these bubbles in my stomach.

“How’re you feeling?” Noah asks softly as he comes up behind me. His hands encircle my waist, and I sink back into him, letting his solidness ground me, but I never stop stirring the mashed potatoes on the stove. The butter, salt, pepper, and cream need to blend evenly because Mom’s recipe deserves to be smooth. Never lumpy. Nobody wants lumpy mashed potatoes.

“Anxious and nervous,” I whisper back, glancing over my shoulder. “You sure about this?”

This is our big announcement. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, except to one person.

River.

My brother is going to have something to say about Noah and me, but it’s time to get everything out in the open. I invited everyone to my place for dinner thinking that crossing that bridge one time is enough. Well, twice, I guess, since we already told Arielle. That hadn’t been the plan, though.

Speaking of plans . . . and the planner . . .

Noah nods, cupping my chin. “Damn right, I am. I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

He’s mine. The words thrill me, and I know that they’re true.

He lays a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth and then moves to my ear. Deep and dark, with layers of meaning, he adds, “And I want everyone to know you’re mine.” A shiver goes through me, and I can hear the triumphant grin in his voice when he says, “It’s going to be fine, Riley. Trust me.”

I do. I trust him and our plan to make this as easy as possible. I leaned on his planning skills as we discussed possible reactions from River and our mothers, and then, I reassured him that it’d all be fine. That they’d be happy for us—surprised, of course, but they’d basically throw a parade for our finding